Du Drottningu Brisingr
by Rustic Ink
Summary: Arya gave up everything for the sake of protecting the dragon egg. She's shown as a cool, unemotional cliche, but she's so much more than that.
1. A Cold Departure

It was late into the afternoon when Faolin came into her private quarters. Despite their many arguments, Islanzadi had insisted the group stay in Ellesmera, and use a few rooms in Tialdari Hall, for a brief period of rest. Of course, Islanzadi had not given the invitation herself; Arya's mother had not spoken to her daughter in close to seventy years. So the task had fallen to Dathedr, and he carried it out with considerable aplomb.  
They had finished touring the elf kingdoms, and no Rider had touched the egg. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. Arya had come to the point where she almost believed a Rider would never appear. Still, it was her duty, and she would not hesitate to treat it as such.  
"Arya, it is time we left for the Varden. Our stay here has been long, and we needs must not prolong it," Faolin murmured in the ancient language, after the traditional greeting had been observed.  
"You are correct. We have dithered here longer than needed. I will speak with Dathedr today, and by tomorrow morning we will be well on our way," Araya sighed wearily.  
"Arya..." Faolin hesitated for a moment before going on, "It is not right that you should bear the burden of your mother's anger. Is there no way you can make peace? The yawe is-"  
"There is nothing more that can be said. Go find Glenwing and begin gathering supplies. We must be ready to leave," ordered Arya sharply, her cheeks suffused with blood.  
After Faolin had left, Arya tiredly sank into a chair nearby. The room let in a strong ray of sunlight, but still she felt cold. _That was badly handled. I must be more polite to him. It is not Faolin's fault that my mother is so stubborn. If he leaves this expedition because he is angry with me, and I am forced to continue with Glenwing... No! I cannot bear the thought. _  
Arya found Dathedr strolling along a path in the Hall. He greeted her rather coolly, and Arya suspected her mother for that.  
"Dathedr, it is time we returned the egg to the Varden. If it does not come back soon, they will believe it missing."  
Dathedr's delicate nose wrinkled in distaste. "What does it matter if they worry? The Varden cannot quarrel with us if the egg stays slightly longer than agreed. Surely it would be better if the elves had a longer time with it? After all, a human Rider would be... unfortunate, to say the least."  
Coldly Arya replied, "The agreement clearly states how long it shall stay and will stay for. It would be unjust of us to delay the time. The egg has not hatched for an elf, so we pass it on to the humans. If you could convey those feelings to my mother as well, I would much appreciate it. In the meantime, Glenwing, Faolin and I will be gathering our belongings, and we will leave on the morrow... With or without anyone's consent."  
His eyes narrowing slightly, Dathedr said, "You have lived a long time with the humans, if you forget such a simple courtesy as discretion. However, I will relay your words to Queen Islanzadi, and you shall be allowed to leave, with as much supplies as possible.  
Arya smiled thinly and responded, "As it should be, Dathedr. May the stars watch over you."  
Later that night, Arya lay in bed, desperately attempting to sleep. But his face kept crowding her mind. He was handsome, with shining black hair, bright eyes and a smooth, pointed face. Nevertheless, it was not Faolin's body that had entranced her throughout the years. His mind was extraordinarily sharp, and he understood her in a way no one else did. Faolin alone supported her choice to bear the yawe.  
Deep in thought, Arya finally succumbed to sleep, just as the first weak rays of the sun began to appear. In too short a time, she woke to find Glenwing gently shaking her shoulder. It was a testimony to her weariness that he had entered the room with no awareness on her part.  
Silently the two walked to where Faolin waited with their supplies and three pure white horses. Glenwing donned his helm and grabbed his spear and dagger while Faolin readied his sword in its sheath and looked over his bow and arrows. Arya also arranged her sword in the sheath until it was comfortable and carefully slung her bow and quiver over her back; making sure the egg was settled in the pouch she carried at the same time.  
Faolin and Arya gazed at each other longingly for a brief moment before turning to greet their steeds. Arya's horse, Vodvir, accepted her willingly, but she noticed Glenwing's mount seemed displeased by the choice.  
"Glenwing, switch with Faolin. I believe your horse is somewhat disenchanted with you," she laughed.  
Good naturedly he agreed, and soon the trio was on their way. Arya saw several elves melting into the trees, but none turned to bid them goodbye. Frustration and anger stirred within her heart. Was it fair that she should be punished for giving up everything and accepting the yawe? _But you didn't give up everything_, a voice whispered. _You still have Faolin. _  
Many hours of silence reigned as the horses carefully but swiftly picked their way through the trees. The elves were lost in thought. Arya and Faolin undoubtedly contemplated each other, while Glenwing mused on their treatment in Ellesmera. The steeds passed the boundaries of Ellesmera shortly after dusk fell, but the elves made no comment. In this way they departed from their home yet again, and all three hearts were saddened by it.


	2. Unease and Fangs

As the sun's last rays sank beneath the horizon in a brilliant show of purple and pink, the three elves stopped to make camp. By this time Du Weldenvarden had become swathed in shadows easily pierced by the elves' keen eyesight. However, their strong sight did nothing to help them see the swift creatures that trotted nearly noiselessly over the leaves. Nor could they help but flinch when an unseen bird let loose a loud shriek.  
Despite the fact that the elves had been born in this forest, their stay among humans had made them uncomfortable even in these familiar surroundings. So it was that Glenwing and Faolin set their tent unusually close to Arya's, the better to protect her from the concealed menaces that lurked Du Weldenvarden. The extra security she accepted with ill-grace and much arguing.  
"This is an unnecessary precaution, Faolin. There is no foe in these forests which I fear, and besides, what would dare attack elves so close to Ellesmera?" she disputed heatedly, her protests falling on deaf ears.  
An hour later the elves had eaten a meal of fruit, bread and honeycakes but remained seated around a small fire. As they had during their ride, the elves remained silent, but now the silence was oppressive rather than reflective. By mutual agreement, Faolin and Glenwing retired to their tent shortly after, and Arya entered hers after dousing the fire.  
That night, as on so many others, she dreamed of Faolin. Tonight though, he did not keep her awake, but led her into one sweet dream after another. The hours of darkness passed swiftly and peacefully but for one small disturbance. A curious animal of some kind brushed against the males' tent. Faolin leapt up instantly, but Glenwing calmed him with a soothing word. The night-time prowler left after a few moments, and Faolin allowed himself to loosen up. Still, he was not quite relaxed enough for sleep.  
"Do you believe the dragon will hatch for a human?" he whispered quietly to the still form of Glenwing. It was an old topic, but one Faolin rarely tired of discussing.  
The shape heaved a taxed sigh and replied, "No, I do not believe a human will become the Shur'tugal. After all, it was a human who was responsible for the fall of dragons and the rise of the Wyrdfell. We have spoken of this many times. Let us go to sleep, and perhaps speak of it tomorrow."  
"As you wish it," Faolin muttered. Though Arya had seemed looser and less politically inclined after her numerous stays with the Varden, Faolin was not. He would not press another elf for an answer in the manner of dwarves and human beings.  
Morning rose refreshingly brisk and clear. Du Weldenvarden had come alive, as always, with soft rustling and the chirping of birds. But the clamor no longer seemed ominous in the sunlight that streamed through the trees and made wonderful patterns on the ground. Indeed, all three elves felt a stirring, the wish to jump up and sing with joy. Caution kept them from doing such, but they did speak.  
Faolin repeated his question, this time directed towards Arya.  
The princess glanced towards the egg sheltered in a brown pouch on her lap. Often she had wondered at its future, but never once had she been able to fully answer that particular question.  
"I am not certain to whom the dragon will hatch. There are, in a way, more humans than elves, and yet most of our race believes we shall provide the Shur'tugal. I am not so sure... Brom comes from the human race, and he is admirable. We need not base all our judgments on-," a snarling interrupted her.  
She looked for the source and saw a tremendously large wolf crouched by the path on which they traveled. His fur was a steel grey in color, mangy and matted, in some places clotted with blood. The wolf's teeth were bared, an ugly yellow color, and his pale yellow eyes danced madly above a wrinkled nose. Saliva dripped slowly from its slavering jaws, dampening the ground as it fell.  
All this Arya saw an instant before the beast sprang. Quicker than thought she reacted, clutching at the pouch and desperately throwing herself off the horse. The wolf passed the spot where she had been seated upon her steed, while the poor horse whinnied madly, bucking and running forward. The carnivorous animal landed lightly on its paws and spun to face her.  
Arya took a deep breath and reached out with her mind in an attempt to calm the maddened animal, while her guards stepped forward with spear and sword held ready. Her thoughts ran into a churning cauldron of rage and the desire to kill. No matter how hard she pushed, there was no way to enter the wolf's thoughts. Preparing herself for the worst, Arya cleared her sword from the sheath, and it rung with a clear bell-like sound.  
The noise distracted her guards, and that was all the disturbance the wolf needed. It bounded forward with teeth bared and shoved through the wall of flesh protecting Arya. Glenwing fell heavily to the side and did not rise, but Faolin kept his balance and swung the slim blade. As fast as the elf was, the animal was faster. It whirled as the blade clashed against the earth and was jarred from his hand.  
"Faolin!" Arya screamed desperately as the frothing wolf charged him and bit into his arm. There was a sharp snap.  
Quickly she set the egg down and leapt forward with the sword outstretched. The blade bit into the beast's flank and growling savagely it turned to face her, eyes still dancing with a fierce madness. Faolin was flung away, his arm held limply. Gathering her strength for one last frantic effort, Arya _threw_ her mind at the wolf's. She felt the barrier of anger bulge, and then it broke with a silent shatter.  
Instantly it became obvious what ailed the beast. Humans had camped on the outskirts of Du Weldenvarden and curious, the wolf had investigated their site. Before he knew what was happening, three dogs had set upon it. The wolf had escaped with its life, but barely. And it had caught some sort of disease from one of the dogs that had bitten it.  
A feeling of pity welled up inside of Arya as she pulled from the crazed mind. She watched the wolf with a feeling of inevitability and even as it leapt the elf struck. Arya felt the sword flick across his throat as she twisted to avoid the still charging body. The wolf staggered a few steps forward, blood beginning to spill from its throat in an ever increasing stream. Shuddering, he collapsed to the ground and struggled feebly as his life's blood soaked the earth.  
At last the wolf's panting and twitching subsided, and Arya turned her attention to Faolin. He was leaning against a tree near the egg, clutching his arm with a grimace. She wondered why he had not healed it until the amount of blood became apparent. Arya cried out softly, her sword held loosely, and rushed to his side. After the trauma of killing the wolf, she had trouble concentrating, but still the word's came to her lips.  
"Waise heill!" she exclaimed, and the deep bite marks began to patch up even as Arya mended the bone. Faolin let out a relieved sigh; sweat poured down his face and his breath came in uneven gasps.  
Glenwing had already healed whatever injury had occurred during his fall. He was leading Arya's distraught mount back to the other horses and politely looked away as Arya embraced Faolin. The two remained in that posture for a moment before Faolin gently disengaged himself and picked up the egg.  
"It is not harmed," he observed quietly.  
"Thank whatever luck was with us today," Arya sighed in relief.  
The three elves mounted up and left the wolf's body where it lay. The experience had sobered both guards and they paid close attention to the woods on either side of them. Had they been looking up, the elves might have seen a pitch black raven circling high up in the sky, watching...


	3. Arguments for Love

The trail they followed was becoming broader and more clearly traveled. Glenwing expressed unease at journeying on a path so well used, and Arya concurred. They moved deeper into the forest, traveling where only an elf could find the way. Once in awhile one of the males would stiffen in alarm, hearing a sound real or imagined. Everyone was on edge after their encounter and likely to jump at the smallest sound.  
Again the path became wider, but it was obvious deer frequently used this trail, not humans. Arya saw a pale brown fawn leaping into the underbrush as the elves came around a bend. Unlike the road they had traveled on before, this one meandered, every once in awhile heading back to Ellesmera. This did not bother them overly; they had come here many times before, and knew it eventually led out of Du Weldenvarden.  
"Arya, is there any chance that we might reach the Varden more swiftly if we went straight through the woods? This path is reliable, but it adds many more miles that we must travel," Faolin commented.  
"No, Faolin, we cannot leave this trail. We might not get lost, but there could be other dangers lurking in the forest. We have always come this way; it has proven to be useful, and more importantly, safe. Besides, no one knows of its existence save Queen Islanzadi and a few others. It is impossible for our enemies to know of it," Arya said confidently.  
"Very well," replied Faolin, slightly disconsolately.  
She glanced at his curiously and saw he was looking away from her, his shoulders hunched slightly.  
Arya frowned and called out to him, "Is something troubling you, Faolin? You need not worry about the egg or me. We will make it to the Varden, with both of you by my side. Come now! Do not look so glum. Laugh a little."  
Faolin looked angry for a moment before blurting out, "How can I be content? A mere wolf was able to get through us as if we were nothing. Our job is to protect you and the egg at all costs, and we failed, miserably. Do not tell me that I should be happy, Arya Drottningu."  
Shocked and hurt, Arya gazed at him for a moment before turning back in her saddle with stiff shoulders. Many angry retorts flitted through her head, but she ignored them all._ No matter that he is angry. I will not be the one to escalate a quarrel between us. _  
The silence between the two was painful, until Glenwing irritably said, "Oh, stop behaving as a human child does. Discuss what is troubling you, Faolin, and Arya, do not disregard what he has to say. You should know that I feel as Faolin does; what happened with the wolf was intolerable, and it will _never_ happen again."  
Abashed, and rightly so, Arya hesitantly urged Faolin to explain.  
"Arya, you are my sun and stars. The egg is my life, my duty, and my honor. To have one but not the other would make me incomplete. To not have any would destroy who I am. Yet, despite the fervor in my blood, still the wolf would have killed you, if not for your admirable swordsmanship. How can I laugh when I know this? How can I ever smile again? Arya, I am your sworn guardian, and from this moment on I will not allow anything to come near you, should they wish you harm."  
Glenwing winced slightly, as if expecting Arya to begin yelling, but she held on to her temper surprisingly well. As gently as she could, Arya clarified her feelings. "I admire your commitment Faolin, but there is a problem with what you say. I am not a female human, to be protected and sheltered in everything I do. As you said, if not for my abilities with a sword, I would be dead. But I am not, so what is the point in grieving as if I was? Besides, the very fact that I killed the wolf shows I can take care of myself. Your protection is welcome, but do not let yourself become overbearing. And Faolin," she searched his hazel green eyes, "as much as I am your sun, so too are you my stars. I have no wish for you to sacrifice yourself for me. Now, let us drop such weighty matters. The sun is high, the air is warm, and we need not dampen our spirits with this talk."  
Grudgingly Faolin agreed, but soon Arya had him laughing and smiling at her sharp wit. Glenwing was also persuaded to join in the merriment, and soon the trio was smiling joyfully. Their ride passed in this manner, and night began to show its first signs. The sun sank ever lower and the forest dimmed as time went by.  
The darkness quelled their laughter, but still all three elves felt happier than they had since their arrival at Ellesmera. Arya sent Glenwing ahead to scout for a possible camp site and he soon returned with a positive report. In no time at all the elves had set up their camp and started a fire. Their meal was crackers, cheese, fruit and bread, with water as a drink.  
Now the sun was vanquished by the moon and the elves marveled at its brightness. The mood around the campfire was uplifted, content, and as a result they stayed out much longer than last night. But still, the time came when the elves rose, entered their tents and lay down to sleep. Arya carefully settled the dragon egg within reach, and soon her light breathing had calmed as she entered her dreams.  
A raven cautiously landed outside of Arya's tent, making less noise than a leaf in the wind. Its beady eyes looked into the opening, and at the sight of the pouch the bird cocked its head excitedly. Hopping forward it entered the dwelling, sidling closer to the sleeping form. Its sharp beak opened slightly, as if to caw, but clamped firmly shut again. The raven grasped the pouch with one foot, talons digging into the rough fiber, and pulled. Nothing happened.  
Ruffling its feathers, one eye fixed on the still elf, the bird gave another tug, this one stronger. The egg inside the pouch shifted, wavered a moment and then fell towards the raven, nearly flattening it. A flurry of hushed activity followed, as the raven jumped backwards and nearly fell over. It gave the pouch one last indignant look before leaving the tent and winging up into the sky, rather reluctantly. The human-that-is-not-human would be displeased with its failure.  
When Arya awoke the next morning, she was surprised to see the egg tipped over. Upon further inspection, all she found was a single black feather, lying near the entrance. Picking it up, she found no trace of magic, and dismissed it as the simple curiosity of a raven. And high above the camp, a black bird circled and gave a satisfied caw. One thought that was not its own but the human-that-is-not-human's, repeated over and over. Soon was the only thought. _Soon_.


	4. Seperation

"I love you."  
Even as Faolin murmured those three powerful, never before spoken words, Arya felt a wonderful stirring in her chest. The feeling was violent and primal, a longed for release of emotions pent up in a space much too small for them. She was ecstatic, blood singing in her veins as if in a dream, but she could clearly see Faolin.  
They were pressed together under an oak tree, Faolin's muscular arms warm against her back. Glenwing had discretely left half an hour earlier, claiming he wanted to ride an extended scouting trip, which would take an hour and a half at least. The two lovers had discussed unimportant topics, but eventually they had ceased their trivial conversation. Faolin had tenderly embraced Arya, and they had said naught until those words were spoken.  
Lips parted slightly, Arya tilted her head back to look at Faolin, seeking an answer in his striking eyes. He too looked for answers, and noticed the hideous doubt her eyes betrayed.  
"It is true Arya! I loved you since I first joined this envoy, and accepted the yawe on your shoulder. I have told you, you are my world now. I..." he faltered as Arya made no response. With an effort he began again. "If you do not share my feelings, I will of course-"  
Arya cut him off stridently, "Of course I love you! It has taken you nearly thirty years to say so, but all the time I hoped... Oh, Faolin, how happy I am to finally hear you speak those words! They fill me with a joy I have never known before. I only wished to enjoy your words; that is why I did not answer at first," she explained enthusiastically.  
After that, there was little that could be said. Faolin pulled her closely to him and as she looked up he brought his lips passionately against her. His unrestrained desire, checked for thirty years, now channeled itself through that kiss. Arya was the first to break away, breathless and with dark green eyes glowing. Faolin smiled, and with the oak tree at his back and his dark hair stirring in the gentle breeze he looked like some human forest god.  
Gently, almost tentatively, Arya trailed her fingers down his cheek, savoring the shameless flash in his eyes as she did so. They kissed again, less ardently than before, tender love slowly replacing their brief spark of passion. Faolin ran his hands through her silky black hair, marveling that the beautiful immortal before him was his at last.  
All too soon Glenwing glided back to their camp, mischief dancing in his eyes as he saw them together. His amusement deepened as they hastily separated, each blushing furiously, staining their cheeks and ears scarlet. Casually he inquired as to what they had done, grinning slightly at their mumbled replies.  
Glenwing had not seen anything, although admittedly he had not gone on an hour scouting trip. Staying just far enough away so he could not see or hear the lovers had been good enough. His meager findings he reported to Arya, and she ordered them to mount up. It was time they continued on their journey to the Varden.  
As the day wore on, the forest began to change. The trees, shrubs and grass took on a burnt yellow color, while the deer path petered out and ended. There were no bird calls or the sounds of leaves crunching as animals trotted over them. The woods began to empty of all life. It was a bleak and desolate landscape, one few elves or humans traversed.  
Arya had been here several times, but still she had to fight a shudder of revulsion at the sight of so much death. Here, hundreds of years ago, the elves and dragons had fought one of the largest battles of their time. Dragons had rained fire down on the elves and scorched the earth; no trees could prosper where the fire had fallen. The elves had also contributed; their magic created great disturbances in the forest.

The deathly quiet section lasted for a good day's ride, Arya knew. She cursed the fact that they would need to spend the night here, but it had happened before. The elves began to quiet as the obvious desolation took its toll on their spirit. In the distance, a large stand of trees stood as the only healthy remnant of the war. They would camp somewhere in that dense, still silent forest.  
Seated in Arya's lap, as always, was the egg, and the uneasy atmosphere caused her to frequently look at it, assuring herself it was there. In the warped sunlight, the top of the egg, just seen despite the pouch, took on a sickly fragile blue, unlike its normal splendid sapphire color.  
Day wore into the late afternoon, and the forest was only an hour's ride away. Glenwing began to fidget nervously, his horse seeming to agree with his feelings. Once or twice it nickered and stopped, before Glenwing's gentle, "Ganga" set it in motion again.  
"We'll travel for some time once we enter the forest. I want to get an early start tomorrow and be gone from this accursed place as soon as possible," Arya commented, and the other two readily agreed.  
Finally the fairly healthy trees rose up on either side, silent sentinels of a history long forgotten by most of Alagaesia. Darkness fell, and through the trees Arya glimpsed stars sparkling coldly above them. Despite the elves excellent eye sight, it was still difficult to travel through a forest with almost no path, and they relied heavily upon their horses.  
"Arya, I believe Glenwing should go first. His spear would be more efficient should anything charge us," suggested Faolin quietly.  
"Very well. Glenwing, switch places with Faolin, and be ready," Arya ordered.  
They had done as she commanded and had been going for a moment more before it happened. Glenwing's mount snorted, and the other horses followed suit, tossing their heads frantically, nostrils flared. The elves stiffened in alarm, and with one mind they wheeled their mounts around, eyes still desperately seeking the disturbance.  
Vodvir, always the best runner, soon left the others behind. Arya heard the sharp twang of bows being drawn and shot, and the deadly hiss of arrows. A second later a contorted voice shouted something in the ancient language. Just as she looked back, her horse was struck by a red bolt. It crashed to the ground, screaming in pain as its chest hit the earth.  
Arya was thrown off, but she landed with all the grace of a leaping panther, the pouch clutched securely in her hands. She turned, looking for Faolin and Glenwing, just in time to see the next flight of black arrows pierce their wards and strike them down. Glenwing fell from his horse first and Faolin wavered for a moment, his eyes seeking something. Even as Arya locked eyes on him he fell heavily and did not move again.  
Behind the bodies of her slain guards several Urgals rushed forward, but they did not overly concern her. It was the black excuse for a human that stood behind them that did. He had red hair, white skin, and scarlet eyes. It could only be one thing. A being spoken of only in whispers and seen rarely by humans, elves or dwarves, but feared and avoided by all. A Shade.  
One last time Arya glanced at the body of her lover, and a cry tore from her lips. She took a step towards him, but the weight in her hands reminded her of her duty. Arya cursed once, swearing revenge on the one who had done this, and then she swiftly fled into the forest.  
Behind her she heard the Shade yell, "After her! She is the one I want!"  
Weaving her way between trunks, Arya ran for her life. As she neared a break in the trees, suddenly a whole section of the forest in front of her burst into flames. Desperately she changed direction, but every turn on her part was blocked by fire. And the ring was slowly growing smaller, leaving her less room to run.  
The Urgals pursuing her were clumsy but strong and determined. Shortly six or seven of them burst through the underbrush behind her. Arya shifted the pouch to one hand and drew her sword. Bellowing madly, the Urgals charged in a group, but Arya's rage gave her speed where the Urgals had none.  
An ax cleaved towards her shoulder, but swiftly she danced aside and thrust her sword into the owner's throat. As he fell with a bloody scream, Arya spun, impaling the Urgal attempting to sneak up on her, who let out an agonized shriek. The sword stuck, and as the next Urgal rushed in she screamed, "Jierda!" With an audible crack it's neck snapped.  
Frantic yanks soon freed the blood-spattered sword and Arya fled towards a large piece of granite, easily defendable. As she pulled away from the Urgals the Shade dropped down in front of her. Frantically the elf slid to a stop, turning to run back the way she had come. Horned fiends blocked any escape route. There was no way out.  
Drawing herself up, the elven princess fixed her gaze on the approaching Shade. His hand was raised, a slight, malicious smile on his face. Her thoughts were a blur, planning a way to rescue the egg. _There is one person I can send it to. Brom will keep the egg safe when no one else can._  
"Get her," the Shade ordered.  
Even as they ran towards her Arya opened the pouch and withdrew the egg. Holding it high over her head, she hurriedly intoned the ancient words that would send it to a safer place. The pale skinned abomination knew what she was doing. As the last words escaped her lips a ruby red ball of energy flew towards her. The egg disappeared even as the ball smashed into her chest.  
Arya collapsed, her thoughts dimming swiftly. Still, there was one image she clung to with all the tenacity she could bring to bear. A handsome, laughing face, bordered by black hair, with soft green eyes. Even as the darkness closed in, and she sank into oblivion, there was one anguished thought. _Faolin_.


End file.
